It's all in the waiting

The bees have been delayed. Tornadoes in the South, it's still really freaking chilly, who knows? May 1st and I wore my light wool coat tonight. Bees are not fond of wool (or leather, perfume, and such-like, for that matter). In any case, the bees are late and hopefully wool will be obsolete soon.

My baby girl back in the day and my sister on the Tokyo River

Have you ever waited with anticipation? It's sort of delicious and slow, and slightly rough on the nerves. It's also giving me some time  to think, which I enjoy. Resultantly, there will be glitter on the hives. The theme is evolving towards disco hives in the meadow. Keepin' it non-toxic, yo.

Years and years and years ago, I waited for the baby to arrive. She was a loooong time in coming and in the interim waiting weeks I planted hundreds of bulbs in pots (it was November on the South Shore). Today I am waiting for my bees. The hundreds of bulbs I planted  this past November are coming up and blooming, blossoming. It's glorious. Tulips, daffa-down-dillies, grape hyacinths, and globe hyacinths. Ferns (I had a fern obsession two years ago) are unfurling. It's all in slo mo. And, the bees will be here May 10th. It's all good. My mind wanders to spring things like ramps, scapes, Chablis, and pokē. The herring are running.

What happens when bees live in your house

 I am installing seven packages of Italian honeybees, 2 at the local 4-h camp and 5 at Cape Cod Organic Farm. Honeypot Hives is physically located there-against the stone wall, west of the perennial garden, near the arched birch. There is a bench for daydreaming, er, hive observation.
Shaka.

All my love, Kalliope